Reign of Blood
by Jase Andrews
Summary: Detective Rick Summers doesn't believe in ghosts, until he tries solve the case of a young boy murdered in Gracey Manor and becomes trapped. Can he survive the terrors and traumas of the mansion and break the age old curse over the house and souls?
1. Prologue: Enter The Mansion

This story and all of its characters unless otherwise mentioned are twisted versions of Disney characters were a ghoulish delight to make. The location is based off of Disneyland's The Haunted Mansion, a beloved ride that, if it were anything like this story, I would not go on. And now, humble reader, I present to thee...

* * *

**Reign of Blood  
**  
_A  
__**Haunted  
Mansion**  
Story  
_

Prologue...

* * *

Two teenagers approached the iron green fence of the looming mansion. A full moon was in the sky, veiled by dark clouds.

How picturesque.

"Dude…are you sure about this?" One of them asked as they started climbing the large fence. They did not notice that several feet away, the main gate, surrounded by brick columns, had slowly creaked open.

"Yeah! Absolutely! This place has been empty for years. Don't worry about it Tyler ," The other replied. Tyler hopped the fence and stared at the huge house uneasily.

"I dunno, Nick. I've heard stories about this place. They say that a serial killer used to live here or something. And his ghost still haunts the place."

"You believe in ghosts? Don't tell me you gave in to all of those crap stories," Nick said, rolling his eyes as he too landed on the withering grass lawn. The two looked at the house and then stared at each other.

"You go in."

"No, you go."

"This was your idea!" Tyler said, "I didn't want to take one foot inside that house! And besides, what are YOU afraid of!"

Nick shifted uncomfortably, struggling for an answer. "…Cops," he said finally. "I don't want the cops to find us."

"Okay. We'll both go in together."

The boys approached the house cautiously and arrived at the huge front door. There were four giant two story pillars in front of the door, and the two story antebellum mansion would've been a beautiful place to live, had it not been abandoned for so many years.

Tyler tried the handle, and much to the boys' surprise, it opened. There was an ominous creak, like so many stereotypical horror films, and they stepped into a small room.

The door suddenly slammed shut behind them, either by wind or faulty hinges, and the foyer they were in plunged into darkness.

Thinking quickly, Nick pulled out his lighter. He found some hanging candles on the wall and lit them, allowing some light to enter the room.

They flickered gently, and cast eerie shadows in the room.

There were a few doors in the room, each of them stuck shut.

"Well, this was pointless," Tyler said, "Can we go now?"

"Just a minute. I hear that there are secret passages around here or something. Maybe there's one in the floor."

Nick stared at the wooden floor, carefully inspecting it. Tyler leaned against a paneled wall boredly, waiting for his friend to finish.

All of a sudden, the wall Tyler was leaning against rolled away. He fell back with a yelp, and before Nick could realize what happened, the wall shut back up.

"Nick!" Tyler yelled, his voice muffled by the wall. Nick suddenly realized that his friend was gone, and ran to the wall. He tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge.

"It won't open!" Nick said scared. Tyler continued to yell…but it sounded like he was getting farther away. Nick tried to understand what he was saying, but it was hard to hear. Plus, it didn't make any sense.

"Oh god…the room-…it's…stretching…this is….wait…what're…WHAT THE HELL IS-"

Then there was an ear piercing scream, and a crash of wood.

" TYLER !" Nick screamed, and beat on the wood paneling. It unexpectedly opened, and Nick had to grab the wall around him to not fall.

Because the room had changed.

It had become longer, and he was now at the middle of it, whereas Tyler had entered at the bottom. He looked down into the room, and saw his friend:

Tyler was lying on the ground. Dead.

There was a huge splinter of wood impaled through his chest. His arms and legs were broken, twisted weirdly. And there was a sick, insane grin on his face.

Then Nick looked up.

Hanging from the ceiling, slowly turning was a rotted and tattered corpse. And when it turned so Nick could see its face, it had that same grin on it, only skeletal and bony. And the corpse seemed to be looking right at him.

Screaming, Nick ran from the mansion and through the main gate, not even realizing that it had opened.

It started to rain.

And as lightning flashed over the mansion, the plaques on the brick columns that read "Gracey Manor" dripped with not rain, but with a dark red liquid.

* * *

A/N: Tyler and Nick were created by me. 


	2. Chapter 1: Murder and Mystery

Murder at Gracey estate. A teenager, Tyler Cummings, had been found dead by his best friend. But there was a problem: nobody was living in this house.

The kid had been raving on about a corpse in the rafters but when investigators went to examine the house, they only found a tiled ceiling, no rafters at all. Police figured the kids had been playing around, Tyler had fallen into this long room, and was killed by the fall.

But nobody could explain the huge wooden beam through his chest. Or the paintings.

* * *

Gracey Manor was, and still is, one of New Orleans' biggest mysteries. The house was once owned by a rich entrepreneur named William Gracey. He loved money. And wanted as much as he could get. 

One story starts in the year 1865, shortly after the Civil War ended. Gracey, who had made a huge profit on cotton and other supplies during the war, didn't want to lose his fortune. He hastily married a woman named Meadow, a rich southern belle who had secure cash funds. But when she suddenly disappeared one day shortly before their marriage, William was accused of killing her. Meadow was beloved by many of the town residents, and in a rash act, they formed a lynch mob and murdered him somewhere in his house. He haunts the mansion still, along with his bride, vowing revenge on the descendants of those who killed him.

Another story, and a less controversial one, is that William had hired a gypsy named Madame Leota so he could contact the dead. But when he started summoning evil ghosts and spirits, Leota refused to work for him. Overpowered by the dark forces, he killed Leota, and became an evil and feared man. His wife refused to marry him because of this dark transformation. Enraged, he locked her in a trunk to suffocate, and threw her wedding ring out the window. But as soon as he did, the darkness seemed to lift. He realized the horrors he had performed, and disgusted by his actions, he hung himself.

No living soul really knows what happened.

Perhaps it's time to start asking outside of that limited group.

* * *

Rick sat at his office, his desk light illuminating the many papers on his desk. He was focusing on one right now: that mysterious murder at the Gracey house.

He had always thought that house was trouble.

Rick was in his mid thirties, a man with a good build and features. He was in good shape; lots of muscle, firmly built. He ran a hand through his spiky brown hair, and focused his hazel eyes intently on the mystery in front of him.

He absentmindedly rubbed his clean shaven face and square jaw as he looked over the report. The detective – yes, he was a detective, and not one of those trench coat wearing private eye types – was working late, in confusion.

"Geez…I hate this job," Rick would often grumble over mysterious cases like this.

What had happened here? Did the other boy kill his best friend? Did Tyler just trip and fall? And where the hell did that beam come from?

All of the paintings' frames were intact.

Ah yes, the paintings.

Rick had known about the Gracey manor for a while, and was pretty keen on its history. But never in his life had he known about this bizarre and morbid sense of humor that William had.

There were four paintings in this strange room.

A painting of a girl holding a parasol walking a tightrope, inches away from the jaws of a hungry alligator. A man in a suit wearing no pants, and standing on a lit keg of dynamite. An old woman sitting on a grave, holding an axe – and the grave had a bust of a man with an axe through his head on it. A man, looking quite calm, sitting on the shoulders of another man, who looked a little nervous, who in turn was sitting on the shoulders of a very worried man, sinking in quicksand.

Nobody had ever discovered this room of the mansion. Because nobody knew it was there.

But this strange room had piqued Rick's interest. He had always thought that the mansion was boarded up. But if there was a way into this secret room…perhaps there was another way out.

_Of course, there was always William's way_, Rick thought to himself with a grimace.

His thoughts were interrupted by the telephone. He picked it up and answered "Rick Summers, Detective for NOPD." It was one of the investigators at the house.

"Summers, we've just made a discovery at that mansion. You better come down here."

* * *

Rick arrived in the mansion, parking his Mercury Sable at the gate and getting out as soon as he could. He rushed up the brick porch steps and entered the house. Paranormal investigators, police men, and even a psychic were down in the portrait room. Rick climbed down the ladder that had been placed in the room so that there wouldn't be any more "accidents" like Tyler's. 

"What is it?" Rick asked in the cramped space.

"We found the other path you were talking about," said one of the cops. He knocked on the wall, and it slowly slid away, revealing a pitch black hallway.

"Has anyone gone in?" Rick asked, squinting to try and see down the hall.

"No. We were waiting for your orders," he replied obediently.

All of a sudden, the Psychic, a woman named Maria, gasped loudly.

The woman was dressed like a psychic would be expected to – Rick thought she was a complete fake. She had dark skin, a deep purple dress on, covered in lots of gold chains and jewelry, and a headband holding down frizzy and curly brown hair.

The psychic approached the door, and spoke in a mystical and eerie voice.

"This house is not safe…there is much evil lurking here. Too much. I do not suggest going in farther-"

"Maria," Rick interrupted, "We have to! This house could not only hold the answer to who murdered Tyler Cummings, but also the history of just what happened to William Gracey!"

"Please, I beg of you, do not disturb the spirits in this house!" Maria pleaded earnestly.

"Spirits?" One cop questioned. Maria turned to him quickly, her eyes glittering.

"Yes! This house is possessed! It is not safe!"

"Please. There's no such thing as ghosts, and possession, and-" Another cop started.

"Oh?" Maria said, practically shouting, "Look at the paintings!"

All of the cops and Rick stared up.

Had their eyes always been looking down like that?

"They are upset at your intrusion! We have to leave! Or the master of this house will-"

But Maria never finished her sentence.

* * *

A/N: Rick, Maria, and all of the miscellaneous cops were created by me. 


	3. Chapter 2: Strange Voices

All of a sudden, the candles in the room blew out. But there were no open windows or anything. It was pitch black.

"Someone get light in here!" Rick yelled. But his voice was drowned out by a sudden thundering from outside. It had started raining.

There was a flash of lightning, shining through the room, and Rick caught a glimpse of Maria.

Her eyes were white.

"GET ME SOME DAMN LIGHT!" Rick yelled.

Policemen hastily relit the candles, casting the normal light in the room.

Maria was on the floor, eyes white, mouth slightly agape.

Paranormal investigators quickly rushed to her side, checking for a pulse and examining her. The unexpected storm continued to rage on.

"What just happened!" Rick yelled, demanding an answer. No one responded.

"Hey! She's saying something!" An investigator who was looking at her eyes said. Everyone leaned around Maria, trying to hear what she was saying.

In a very soft and unnaturally deep voice, the psychic was repeating the words: "When hinges creak in doorless chambers…and strange and frightening sounds echo through the halls…whenever candle lights flicker where the air is deathly still…that is the time when ghosts are present…practicing their terror with ghoulish delight…"

Rick looked at the candles that had just been lit in the room.

They were flickering.

* * *

"We're going in," Rick said after Maria had been removed, "We have to. Who's with me?"

But the others were uneasy about entering after what had just taken place.

"Fine. I'll go by myself," Rick said, and started through the door.

"No! What if something happens-" A cop tried to argue.

"I've got my cell phone. And besides…if I run into any ghosts, you should be able to hear my screams," he said with a small grin, trying to lighten the mood.

Rick stepped through the opening onto a red carpet that seemed to line the hallway.

As soon as he was all the way through the door, the panel slid shut. He whirled around as it closed, and saw that the people on the other side looked just as shocked as he did.

"Hey!" He yelled, "Can you get it open?" Rick waited for an answer, but there was no noise. Rick tried in vain to open the wall. He pressed his ear against the panel. It was deathly quiet.

"Soundproof…" he muttered to himself. He turned to the hallway – his only way to go now.

As he walked down the hall, lighting candles along the way, he realized that there were paintings hung here. They were an Egyptian queen resting on a loveseat…A majestic ship, battling waves…and a Greek woman with red hair. But whenever lightning flashed, Rick's eyes would play tricks on him. In the lightning, the Egyptian queen looked like a panther creature, the ship suddenly turned into a ghost ship on black waters, and the Greek woman turned into a screeching medusa.

The hallway took a right after the portraits, and Rick passed two white marble busts at the end of it. Their eyes seemed to watch him, glaring as he intruded in their abode.

He came to a marble staircase, and slowly began to ascend it.

* * *

_You are cordially invited to Gracey Manor_  
_On the Twelfth of April, 1965  
__For a Celebration of the Engagement of  
__William G. Gracey  
__And  
__Meadow J. Ellsworth _

"William," Leota said as he finished writing the invitations. He dabbed his quill in the forest green ink and put the final touches on the last one, writing in beautiful calligraphy.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? This marriage seems very quick…you only met the girl three days ago!"

"Yes, I'm sure. Meadow and I are in love, Leota. Can't you see that?" The man said, finishing, "Or maybe…you're just a bit jealous?"

"What!" Leota said, taken aback.

"I see the way you look at us together. You're full of envy," William said, giving the invitations to a servant to send out.

Leota sighed heavily. Ever since William had gotten news that the war was over this morning, he seemed very jumpy and rude. As soon as he had heard, he proposed to Meadow. Everyone in the mansion thought it was incredibly romantic.

Leota thought otherwise.

"All he cares about is money," Leota said grudgingly as she headed to her room.

Leota had designed her room like a séance area – a table with a crystal ball, and a large armchair for her to sit in. Since William had hired her as a fortune teller, she figured she might as well look the part.

The psychic was psychic all right; she just hated all of the stereotypes that went with it. But to please William, and to keep her job, she went along with her little ruse.

Leota placed a hand on her crystal ball as she walked by her room, and all of a sudden, a series of images flashed through her head.

_Meadow, trapped somewhere, screaming to get out; the mansion surrounded by people, screaming and shouting while carrying torches; and William, hanging from a noose in the attic. _

She pulled her hand back in shock. Leota was used to getting premonitions, visions of the future…but none as awful as that. Staring at the crystal ball, she silently hoped that the vision wouldn't come true. But the soothsayer knew that was wishful thinking – every single premonition she'd had to date eventually came to pass.

* * *

Rick found himself in a long hallway, covered in cobwebs and dust. Old pictures on the walls seemed to follow his every move, and ornate doorways with brass handles filled the hall.

At first, Rick thought he was just hallucinating. When he saw that one of the wooden doors seemed to be breathing, bending out and in, he thought it was a trick of the light. But when he saw blood leaking from every opening above and below another one, and heard ear-piercing screams coming from others.

Rick started to panic. Especially when he came to the boarded up rooms.

When Rick passed the first one, withered arms, claws, skeletal hands and all sorts of gory and bloody appendages shot out at him, grasping at him. One got his throat, and he gagged and desperately tried to get away. Finally he wrenched the hand off, and backed up against the wall as far as he could, sweat on his forehead and breathing heavily. The hands eventually gave up, and retread back into the darkness.

It was about this time that Rick realized that this was not an ordinary old house.

"What the hell is this kind of place?" He asked himself, trying to calm his nerves.

"You just answered your own question."

Rick whirled around. Nobody was behind him. And nobody was in front of him either.

"This IS hell. Trapped in this godforsaken house for over a hundred years. And I'm the only sane one here."

The voice belonged to a woman, Rick figured that out. But it seemed to be coming from all around him, from every door and from each end of the hallway he was at.

"Well, not anymore. But I soon will be. That poor boy…"

That sparked Rick's interest.

"Boy…you mean Tyler?"

"Ah yes. That's his name."

"What about him? Do you know what happened to him?"

"Of course, dear. I know everything."

"Wh-who are you!" Rick asked.

"Follow my voice. And I'll explain everything."

All of a sudden, the direction of the voice changed to further down the hall. Rick started after it, a feeling of dread in his stomach.


	4. Chapter 3: Beautiful Despair

Amy Anderson felt like the luckiest girl in the world. Bobby Thomas had just taken her to her senior prom, and they had been named the King and Queen. The night was filled with tears, of course; senior prom meant that the class of '69 would soon be graduating, and everyone would go off to college or jobs, and maybe never see each other again.

"Bobby?" Amy said as they drove home. She brushed a lock of brown hair out of her eyes.

"Yeah?"

"I had a real great time tonight," she said, leaning on his shoulder.

"Me too. It's really sad that we're all goin' away."

"Bobby? You'll write to me every day, won't you?" Amy asked hopefully.

"Of course! And as soon as I'm done with basic training, we can be together again." Amy smiled, and there was silence in the car again. But then…

"Bobby! Watch out!"

Something – they couldn't tell what – was in the road. It looked like a man, standing in the middle of the road, trying to hitchhike. But he looked strange…his eyes were a bright red, and there seemed to be a ghostly blue about him…

Bobby hit the brakes, and the old Chevy he had borrowed from his dad started to swerve. The kids were too scared to notice that, when the car fishtailed, the rear passed right through the man.

The car went off the road and crashed into something.

A gate.

Amy was thrown from the car.

* * *

When Bobby regained consciousness minutes later, he saw where he was.

The old house that everyone said was haunted. He had crashed right into the front gate.

And on the other side was Amy's body, in a pool of blood.

"Oh god," Bobby gasped, and got out of the wrecked car. He tried to open the gate, but nothing worked.

All he could do was watch as his girlfriend died a slow, painful death, her beautiful pink prom dress with a sequin collar staining with blood. As the teenager sobbed, blood slowly and inconspicuously seeped from the cracks in the ground.

* * *

Rick came to a door that was surrounded by a green glow. 

"Come on in…I don't bite," the voice said, and Rick pushed the old door open with his hand.

It was like stepping into a gypsy's tent at a carnival. The room was filled with rugs, drapes, and all sorts of oddities that were meant to help make contact with the dead. In the middle of the room was a table covered with a deep purple cloth, and a large cushy chair.

"Hello?" Rick called.

"Right here," the voice replied.

Rick looked down, and his jaw dropped.

Sitting on the table was a crystal ball, filled with a green light. But it was also filled with a woman's head.

The woman in the crystal ball had bright red lipstick on, and her eyes were accented with dark shadow. She smiled mischievously at Rick.

"Take a seat," she offered, and he obediently plopped into the chair, still in awe at this woman.

"What…who…" he started, but she interrupted him.

"I am Madame Leota. Resident Psychic and Fortune teller at Gracey Manor. You must be Rick." Rick nodded, and looked around the room for any wires or mirrors. Maybe this was just a trick.

"Oh, this is real," Leota said, as if reading his mind. Maybe she was.

"But how? None of this makes any-"

"Does everything in life have to make sense, boy! Look at this place! Mysterious deaths, strange paintings, ME! Don't you get it!"

Rick stared blankly at her.

"Oh, for the love of-…this mansion is haunted. The Haunted Mansion, if you will. Yes, I spent thirty-odd years thinking that one up. It's kind of hard to do anything else besides think when you're stuck in a crystal ball."

"So…can you tell me what exactly is up with this place?" Rick said, trying to tell himself that he wasn't going crazy.

"It all started with William Gracey murdering his wife. He had-"

"So he DID kill her!" Rick said, now interested in the story.

"Don't interrupt!" Leota snapped at him, "Anyways…he had just found out that he was going to lose all of his money after the end of the Civil War. He hastily became engaged to a woman named Meadow, and shortly after they drew up the monetary agreements and hours before her marriage, she disappeared. The girl was later found dead. Locked in a trunk in the attic. Suffocated.

Everyone suspected William, because he had just obtained Meadow's fortune. The people of New Orleans were furious about Meadow's death, and confronted William about it. When he refused to tell them anything, they became even more suspicious.

That's when the mob formed.

Carrying torches, pitchforks, and anything else they could kill a man with, they stormed to the mansion and demanded that William be killed. But of course, he wouldn't go. He wanted to stop them, by all means necessary.

Against my will, he broke into my room and started looking through my spell books. William found one that he believed would kill everyone trying to stop him. When he said it, clouds filled the air, and blood began to rain from the sky. The hundreds of people there died painfully. Every single one.

And unbeknownst to William, everyone inside as well, including me.

When William finally realized that he had not only killed everyone outside, but his staff and friends in the house as well, he was horrified. He blamed it on me, and attempted to bring me back to life with more magic.

He again, failed, and his failure led to what you see before you – me, trapped in my crystal ball.

The effects of William's magic were not good for the house. They brought back the spirits of those who he had killed. But they were twisted, deranged, and evil. They overpowered him, and hung him in the attic above the portrait gallery. And the evil magic continued to grow, and become stronger, soon transforming the mansion with it.

Now, whenever someone dies in the Mansion grounds, their soul is trapped here forever. In a few days, they lose themselves and become one of the mindless ghouls here.

It will happen to Tyler soon, too."

Rick groaned. This was just too much.

"I hate this job."

* * *

A/N: Amy and Bobby were created by me.


	5. Chapter 4: Dangerous Encounters

Meadow slowly climbed the stairs to the attic. She was going to be married. This lump in her throat wouldn't go away. She was excited, nervous, scared…but also happy. This was going to be her day…and nothing would go wrong.

When Meadow entered the attic, she saw her wedding dress on the mannequin, sparking in the little sunlight that streamed through the attic windows. The only reason she was in the attic in the first place was because it was the only room with a boudoir, and none of the other rooms had been prepared for her.

Meadow didn't mind though; she loved the attic's quaint, homey atmosphere. Little toys and forgotten antiques rest in the attic peacefully, and as Meadow put on her dress, she smiled at how pleasant this house was.

The prenups had already been written, the guests were arriving, and the ballroom had been prepared. Just as Meadow put her gossamer veil over her beautiful blond hair, she heard a creaking noise.

"Hello?" She called, leaning to see if someone was at the door. It had opened, and now was silently shutting due to bad hinges.

"William, is that you?" Meadow asked, looking around with a little smile, "You know you're not supposed to see the bride before her wedding!"

All of a sudden, a hand clamped over her mouth. A person had grabbed her, and was forcing her towards a corner of the attic. She tried to scream, tried to turn her head, but she couldn't see who had a hold of her. Suddenly, everything went black.

When Meadow regained consciousness, everything was black. She was cramped in a tight space, her legs stiff and cramped. Meadow was in a box of some sort, but she couldn't figure out what. She tried to open it, but it was tightly locked. Screaming and desperately trying to get out for hours, Meadow ran out of air. She died of asphyxiation.

No one knew where she was until a few months later. They previously thought she had jilted William, until someone found her in the trunk. When the housekeepers opened it, they were shocked to find her in there – her beautiful dress stained with blood, her fingers peeled to the bone, clawing marks all over the inside of the trunk.

* * *

"Okay, so how do I break the spell, or curse, or whatever it is?" Rick asked Leota.

"You have to get to William himself. But to reach him you'll have to enter his study, which is completely locked."

"What do you mean, 'completely?'?"

"There are five keys hidden throughout the Mansion. Each of them undoes a lock on William's study. Some of them won't be hard to find. Others may be a little more difficult. I have the first one right here." Suddenly, a purple key appeared out of nowhere, hovering in midair. Rick cautiously grabbed it.

"You need to hurry. If Master Gracey finds out you're here…you could meet the same fate as all of those other innocent souls."

"But how do I stop Gracey after I get in his study?"

"Very simple. William has a magical barrier of some sort around that room that I can't penetrate. Once the door is open, I'll be able to use my magic to defeat him once and for all."

"This is ridiculous. I'm not even supposed to believe in all this stuff!"

"Believe it, honey. Or you'll soon be part of it."

* * *

"Okay. I can do this. Four keys, that's it! All I need are four little keys, so I can stop a maniacal ghost from killing me, and also saving the soul of a teenage kid in the process."

He stopped, and pulled the little key out of his pocket. It had an amethyst stone imbedded in one end, and the actual key part was a faded purple color.

"I can't believe this. This can't get worse."

But when he returned the key to his pocket and looked back up the hallway, there was someone there.

A girl.

Her scraggly brown hair was in front of her eyes, a la "The Ring." And she was wearing a pink dress. Stained with blood.

"Hello?" Rick called, not able to look at the young girl's face. The girl said nothing.

Rick slowly approached her, and continued talking.

"Can you help me? I'm looking for some keys, and-"

He was cut off when the girl threw her head back, causing her hair to move, allowing Rick to see her face.

She was hideous. One of her eyes was missing, her skin was a hideous gray color, and her mouth seemed to have no jaw.

"What are you doing here. Get out," The girl said, in an unnaturally deep voice.

"Holy sh-" But he never got to finish.

The girl's jaw stretched down to an unbelievable length, down to her waist, and she screamed the loudest and most horrific sound Rick had ever heard.

The girl was a banshee.

Covering his ears didn't help, and Rick fell to the floor, eyes scrunched shut. He felt like he was going to throw up, the noise was that hideous. The girl moved closer to him, and finally Rick pulled one hand away from his ear, reached into his pocket, pulled out his gun, and fired.

The bullet went right through the girl's forehead.

She stopped screaming and with her one eye, looked up at the bloodless wound. She turned back to Rick, gave him a glare, and then fell through the floor, disappearing to another part of the mansion.

Panting, Rick held on to his gun tightly. He knew he got lucky that time – most of the other ghosts would be transparent. He stood up, shaking, and continued through the house.

* * *

Soon Rick found himself in the ballroom. It was a huge place, with ornate tiled floors and a large, dusty organ on one side of the room. The whole place seemed to be frozen in time; there wasn't a soul in the room (no pun intended), but it seemed like there had been a party going on, many years ago. Old, dusty food, and a birthday cake were on the table, along with elegant china settings. The cake looked like it had the imprint of someone's profile on it. The setup reminded him of Miss Havisham from Dickens' "Great Expectations."

A clock chimed thirteen somewhere.

Wait…thirteen?...had he counted that right?


	6. Chapter 5: Reliving The Past

Had a clock just struck thirteen somewhere?

All of a sudden, from the other end of the room, he heard a loud, piercing noise, interrupting his thoughts. It sounded like the cry of a hoarse raven, but when Rick swiveled around, he saw that there wasn't anyone in the room. The only movement he could see was a single key lifting up by itself on the organ. Rick had taken music classes when he was young. He recognized the note.

A "G."

Suddenly, more notes followed it, very slowly, but in a distinct rhythm.

_G AA _ _E EE__ D# D# B… _

All of a sudden, the tall windows of the ballroom flew open, causing the dusty curtains to whip about, and blow the thick layers of dust over the ballroom. But as the dust covered the room, it seemed to sparkle and glimmer…

As Rick squinted and spit out pieces of wild dust, he tried to focus on the scene that was occurring before him. What was going on?

It was hard to make out, but it looked like blue translucent blobs were slowly appearing in the ballroom. The wind still blowing furiously, the glittering dust flying about the room, Rick could see the mysterious shapes define and become clear.

Ghosts. Each a pale blue, yet having defining features like the color of an outfit, or makeup and hair color. Some were gathered around the table, an elderly woman at the end, blowing out what looked like ghostly fire on the candles on the cake. Ghosts swung from chandeliers, dancers in elegant gowns and tuxes materialized on the dance floor, bowed to each other, and began to waltz, and the various portraits on the wall featuring now deceased inhabitants rippled and shimmered as the subjects' spirits appeared out of the paintings. Two men, each with a gun in hand and back to back, appeared out of their paintings resembling the same thing, and shot at each other. Other spirits materialized out of paintings, looking exactly as they had been painted. And lastly, a man in a long cape and top hat appeared at the organ, cracked his knuckles, and began to play a faster version of the song Rick had just heard.

Rick gasped at the scene that was occurring. He thought all of the ghosts were zombies, like the one he had seen earlier…

These ghosts seemed competent, aware.

Or where they?

Rick quietly approached one sitting at the table, cleared his throat, and said "Excuse me."

The ghost didn't respond.

"HEY!" Rick yelled in the ghost's ear. It was oblivious to him. Just then a ghost couple walked right through Rick, unaware of his presence. He felt like he had just been hit by a blast of arctic wind that died down as soon as the ghosts had passed through him. Shivering and staring confusedly at the couple, he sat down in an empty chair next to an elderly woman, who was in a rocking chair and knitting.

All of a sudden, there was a rumble outside.

The ghosts quieted down and looked out the windows. Rick followed suit.

It was a clear night – hundreds of stars could be twinkling out the large windows.

Suddenly, there was a flash of lightning. But again, it was clear.

"What the hell?..." he muttered as he walked closer to the windows. Trying to look out them, he saw something suddenly fall from the sky. It was translucent, like it wasn't really there. And it looked like blood.

The other ghosts seemed to notice it too, only they took it a lot more seriously. They screamed, gasped, and generally acted as though it were a sign of the apocalypse.

Maybe it was.

Rick suddenly heard the ghosts start to moan. He turned, and saw them all gasping, eyes bulging out, and falling to the floor.

They were dying.

But that was impossible. They were already dead.

The woman celebrating with the cake suddenly keeled over, the side of her face landing in the cake, lining up perfectly with the old imprint.

The organist, who couldn't seem to stop playing, watched in horror as a pipe slowly creaked off the wall, and then crushed him. But it was just a 'ghost pipe' – Rick had watched as it split off from the normal, corporeal pipe and crashed down.

The ballroom dancers sped up, whirled around and around, so fast that they began to vomit, then collapsed in a sickly heap.

Soon, every spirit was lying on the floor, 'dead.'

Then the confusing part happened.

Rick watched in utter amazement as…ghosts of the ghosts, that was the best way he could describe it…rose out of their bodies, and looked at the scene before them with grief and horror stricken faces.

They vanished one by one in wisps of ethereal smoke, off to who knows where. Their spirits wouldn't actually return to the mansion until Gracey himself was killed.

Deathly quiet, Rick looked at the scene and wreckage around him. All of a sudden, he heard a soft clinking noise. Out of the fallen organ pipe shot a silver key with a diamond embedded in the end, just like the purple one he had gotten from Leota. It was translucent, like the pipe and the dead ghosts. Skittering across the floor, it eventually slowed and stopped right in front of Rick's feet.

Reaching for it apprehensively, unsure if he could pick it up or not, Rick slowly wrapped his hands around the ghostly key. It suddenly felt heavier, and when he opened his hand, the key was now solid as ever.

The wind picked up again, and all of the bodies and ghostly objects were whisked away in the glittering dust. After everything had vanished, the windows closed with a creaking snap. The ballroom was just as it had been. Rick backed out slowly, shut the door, and took off running down the hall.


	7. Chapter 6: Attic Attack

"Oh, that? Sorry, forgot to mention it. Not all of the spirits are zombies or ghouls, per say. Some are just trapped here, forced to relive their death, every thirteen hours."

Rick had gone back to Leota's room to question her about the ballroom.

"So that's what that clock was. And that explains why everything was ghost…y."

"Right."

"Well, at least I found another key," Rick said, pulling the sparkling silver key out of his pocket. He now had two of the three keys hidden throughout the mansion.

"Ingenious really…hiding the key in the ghost of an object…" Leota murmured to herself.

"Who hid the keys?" Rick asked, catching her muttering.

"I'm not really sure. I think they sort of…hid themselves. This house kind of has a mind of its own, really."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, ever since William cast that spell, the house itself has acted strange too. I think it's the side effect from the magic, and its effect on the house and the inhabitants."

"Exactly," quipped a chair in the corner of the room. Rick stared at it for a second, then turned back to Leota.

"So will this have any effect on me?"

"It…shouldn't…" the psychic said, about 90 certain.

"Great. Great to know," Rick said sarcastically, "Well, I'll just go look for that next key, and risk my life while you sit there in that crystal ball, all safe and sound…"

He left mumbling about hating his job, slamming the door on his way out, making the fragile artifacts in the room shake, and causing Madame Leota to flinch.

* * *

Rick explored the house some more, looking for the last three keys. Room after room, hallway after hallway, he couldn't find anything except more arms and more evil ghosts. After one particularly nasty encounter with a headless zombie, he checked his watch.

The numbers went to thirteen instead of twelve.

And it was already 12:45 again.

How was that possible? He'd only been in the mansion for a few hours…right?

Maybe time had been warped in the mansion as well. The curse could be affecting much more than Leota thought.

* * *

Minutes passed.

A clock in the house near Leota's room, a large grandfather clock, but warped by the curse, started to chime. It had once been a beautiful piece of work, but was now a hideous monster, with purple wood and demonic eyes over the face of the clock. Its serpent-like pendulum swayed slowly back and forth as the hands of the clock started to spin wildly. It was 13 'o clock. And at that exact time, Rick entered a dusty old room after climbing a rickety staircase.

He heard the distinct chiming again, and looked at his surroundings. A filthy, dust covered and spider web ridden room, filled with all sorts of junk. Just as he was about to step forward to look around, Rick heard a noise.

It was quick footsteps. Behind him.

He turned around just in time to see a 'ghost version' of the door open, and a woman walked through it, even though the real solid door was closed the whole time. The woman looked nervous, and quickly entered the attic, walking right through Rick and making him feel unbelievable cold again.

"Geez…" he muttered, shivering and watching the girl. She approached a mannequin, and Rick's eyebrows went up as he saw a beautiful wedding dress slowly appear, sparkling in the moonlight streaming through the attic windows. The woman took the wedding dress off the old dummy carefully and started to change into it.

Rick, unsure if it was immoral to watch a ghost who wasn't even aware of his presence change clothes, turned away anyways, occasionally glancing back to see if she had finished. When she finally did, he turned back towards her, and continued to watch.

The woman…Meadow…was just about to go downstairs, when she was suddenly jerked back. It looked like she was struggling against something, but there was nobody holding her.

Maybe her killer was off experiencing his own death.

Rick watched in horror as the poor girl screamed and fought without success, and was lifted into the air and then thrown in a ratty old trunk…the past version of it anyways. She struggled and screamed from within, and Rick watched with disgust and sorrow as the ghostly chest rattled, occasionally breaking away from its corporeal counterpart. Finally, what seemed like hours later, the screaming and rattling died down.

Rick curiously went to the trunk and opened it vainly, knowing there was nothing he could do for the girl now.

The trunk was…empty.

Actually…there was something at the bottom of the chest.

A ring.

A small ring with an azure jewel embedded in it. It looked like a wedding ring.

Rick carefully took the ring and examined it – its shape was an intricate design, beautifully carved. After admiring the work for a second more, he pocketed the ring. Maybe it couldn't help out, but it was still the most amazing ring Rick had ever seen.

All of a sudden, he heard a noise outside. It sounded like a scream, combined with a howl of wind. Looking out a shattered window, he saw something that made his jaw drop.

A graveyard. A big one.

Rick hadn't even known about this part of the mansion. It must've been concealed by the gate and foliage.

There were hundreds of graves. Stretching out as far as the eye could see. And under each of them held a story, a long forgotten past.

Rick saw that the window was big enough for him to crawl through. Soon he was standing on the roof, looking for a way down to the graveyard. He found a drain pipe he could shimmy down, and began his descent. Unfortunately, he forgot how old the house was. About a third of the way down, the drain pipe suddenly creaked, then broke off.

"Shit!"

Rick and the bent drainpipe fell to the ground with a crash, landing in a long dead rosebush.

After a few seconds of recovery and removal of dead thorns, he regained his composure and continued down the dirt path into the graveyard.


	8. Chapter 7: Secrets Of The Graveyard

The graveyard was sort of a fenced in area in a fenced in area – it had a miniature version of the gate, very similar to the one outside of the mansion, with the brick columns on either side. He made sure that this gate wouldn't lock behind him like the stretching room had by placing a huge rock by the open gate, like a door jam.

Just as he finished putting the rock down, he heard something rustling in the bushes further into the graveyard.

Turning his attention to the noise, he cautiously walked towards the bush. As soon as he got closer, he heard a noise accompanying the rustling – whimpering.

It sounded like a puppy.

Crouching down to look in the dark shrubbery, he tried to locate the source. Rick then noticed a pair of scared yellow eyes looking at him.

"Aww…are you okay?" He called to the poor little animal. It replied by whimpering some more.

"C'mere…it's okay…I'm not going to hurt you…"

The dog suddenly leaped out of the bush, tackling him.

It was a lot bigger than Rick thought. And less fleshy, too.

The dog was no more than bone, rotting flesh, and muscle. Its eyes were gone, replaced with glowing eye sockets, and it had blood stained teeth. And it was pinning Rick down, staring hungrily at him.

"Oh, come on!" Rick groaned to no one as the dog inched its face closer. Rick rolled out of underneath the dog, and scrambled up to try and get away, but the dog grabbed a hold of his ankle. Searing pain shot through him as the dog's yellowed teeth sank into his leg. Screaming, he shook his leg wildly. The dog was big, but Rick was bigger – with one huge thrust of his leg, he sent the dog flying off into the distance, the pitiful creature yowling into the night.

Breathing heavily, covered with dirt and his leg with blood, Rick fell to the ground. He grabbed hold of his wound, and tried to staunch the bleeding. Eventually it stopped, but exhausted, tired, and physically drained, Rick collapsed on the dirt path.

When he woke up, the night was quiet, and the sky was twinkling with stars. His wound was looking a little better. As he breathed a sigh of relief, he heard a sound off in the distance. It sounded like a wolf howl.

Off in the distance, through the greenish sky and mist, he could see the dog, howling to the moon. Its silhouette stood out eerily against the flat skyline. It howled slowly, but put obvious pauses between howls. As Rick sat there holding his leg, his mind counted the number of howls.

Guess how many?

That's right. Thirteen.

As soon as the last howl finished, Rick heard a cracking noise behind him.

Turning and standing slowly, he watched in horror as some of the graves around him started to rattle slowly. The ground beneath them cracked open, and hands started to slowly emerge – skeletal, disgusting, and rotted hands. They clawed at the ground, trying to get a hold, and when they finally did, they slowly propelled themselves out of the ground. A crash on Rick's right distracted him to another emerging skeleton.

A coffin had banged out of a hearse that was stuck in the mud, and its occupant was having difficulty getting out.

But not all of the dead were zombies.

Somehow, someway, it was thirteen 'o clock again. Had he really been out that long?

Bluish spirits materialized, reliving their deaths yet again. Some of the ghosts appeared to be shooting each other with bows and arrows, others were poisoned by something in their tea, and others appeared to be sinking in quicksand while just standing in grass.

And during all of this, ghostly blood rained from the sky. It splattered on the ghosts faces, while Rick was immune to the shower of death.

Then he remembered the zombies.

Four of them were slowly approaching them. Rick quickly got on his feet and started to run through the graveyard, not knowing where he was going. Running past trees, graves, and through ghosts, he went as fast as he could to get away from the resurrected corpses. They moaned horribly, their cries of anguish carrying through the graveyard and beyond.

Rick wondered if anyone on the outside of the Mansion could hear them. And if the police were trying to find him. Hopefully they hadn't met the same fate as Tyler.

He hid behind four small marble columns, panting and sweating, occasionally glancing around to see if the zombies were getting closer. When their cries finally died down, he fell back onto the grass with relief.

"Eh, look guys! It's a human!" a high voice with a New York accent said.

Rick opened his eyes.

"What?" He called out.

"Oh yeah! I wonder what he's doing here! Must be lost, poor fellow," said another voice, this one much deeper.

Rick stood up cautiously. There were others here with him, and they seemed to be sentient beings.

"Where are you?" the confused detective asked.

"Down here chum!" A third voice said cheerily.

Rick looked down.

In front of him on the marble pillars were five busts…and they were all moving and looking up at Rick.

"Son of a-!" Rick started, jumping back. But one of the busts interrupted him.

"Now now lad, there's no need for cursin'! What'd you expect in a haunted mansion!"

"Well, um…I…er…you…" Rick said, blabbering and stuttering.

"Oh look gents, we've scared the boy to death!" A fat one said. The others all chuckled.

"How?..." Rick finally managed to get out.

"Oh…it was that damn curse of Gracey's…"

"See, we died ages ago. Our bodies are buried somewhere over…there, I think," a bust said, nodding in one direction after pausing for a thought.

"But because we were the most famous singing group around, William insisted on placing busts of us in the Graveyard, so he could always remember our beautiful music."

"But when Gracey died, and the magic started to overpower the house…"

"…Our minds somehow became trapped in these busts. We're stuck like this forever now…"

They sighed as a collective unit.

"But once you defeat William, we should be free!" One said happily after their moment of silence.

"Yeah! If the source of the evil is gone, then the rest of it should vanish."

"We're all counting on you!"

"And," one head quipped, "If you _do_ fail, you're welcome to join eternity here with us!"

"Gee. Thanks," Rick said, leaving the busts as they began to hum a quintet.

"Wow…" he muttered as soon as they were out of earshot, "Now I have incentive." But as Rick left them, they began to sing. He couldn't hear the words to the song because of his distance between them, but it was that same exact melody he'd heard in the ballroom, only much faster.

If the organist knew it, and the busts knew it…maybe it was more important than Rick thought.


	9. Chapter 8: The Sneaky Hooligans

His encounter with the cheery busts made him relax a bit. The graveyard was calm now – the silent air and beautiful night sky put him slightly at ease. However, those feelings of dread returned when he found himself at a giant mausoleum, its door swung open and off one of its giant hinges. He looked around, seeing if there was anywhere else to go, and finally decided that this would be as good a place as any to look for a key.

Descending the stone ramp down into the crypt, he found an old sconce shaped like a thin arm wearing a cloak, still holding a long unused torch. Taking his lighter out of his pocket, lit the torch, and with some difficulty pulled it away from the hand.

He didn't notice that the hand gave him the finger as he continued downward.

Holding the comforting flame in front of him, Rick soon reached level ground and began to look around.

On one side of him were crypts, each holding a long deceased body. Hopefully they couldn't break through those giant stone slabs. But on the other side was something strange, that Rick didn't expect.

Mirrors.

Each with a beautiful but worn gold rim, oval shaped, and hanging on the wall. They were dark, covered with spider webs and dust. Rick approached one silently and in one motion, brushed away all of the coverings, allowing him to see his reflection in the mirror.

As well as the one of the ghost behind him.

In the mirror, standing a few feet behind him, was a pale blue ghost, looking even more see through and blue than the others. But it had one distinct feature about it: it had red eyes. The ghost was wearing a top hat and was pretty plump, with curly hair and a big nose. In one of his hands was a carpetbag, with a floral pattern on it.

Rick spun around as soon as he saw the ghost, but there was no one behind him.

"Okay, I know you're here, I'm not stupid…" Rick said, annoyed. He walked to the next mirror and brushed it off like he had the first one.

When he looked in this mirror, he saw another ghost behind him. It was taller than the first, and much skinnier…almost inhumanly. Strands of hair stuck out from underneath the derby hat he was wearing, and his face was gaunt and skeletal. But he had a big grin on his face, and the same red eyes as the first had. He took off his hat and nodded it towards Rick, then laughed a raspy and hoarse chuckle. When Rick turned to see if the specter was there, it was gone again, the laughter echoing through the mausoleum.

Sighing, Rick walked to the final mirror and brushed it off. In this one, he saw the ghost leaning against some of the crypts on the opposite wall. It was much shorter than the first two; probably a midget. It had a long beard that went down to his feet, and bushy and unkempt hair. Its nose and eyes stuck out of his wild mane, and it glared and smiled at Rick like the first two had. But the most unusual thing about this ghost was the giant iron ball that was stuck to his leg, like they used to have in old prisons. He casually swung it around like it was a yo-yo while Rick was looking at him, almost menacingly. As if he wanted to maim Rick to death with the giant iron ball. Rick backed up slowly, getting closer and closer to the ghost, watching his reflection the whole time. Soon he was right next to the ghost, and it was looking up at him with a smile.

He then quickly turned his head. The ghost was gone.

"Oh, you're good," he muttered darkly as he looked at the ghost-less spot.

Now that he was on the opposite side of the room, he could see into all three mirrors at once.

And in the farthest one was the fat ghost, the middle the tall one, and the one in front of Rick the short one.

"So, you're the fresh meat around here, eh?" The one wearing a top hat asked.

"Literally," The short one said in a deep voice.

"Where did you come from?" Rick asked, pointing at the ghosts.

"Well, it all started with a process called 'fertilization,' between my father and his Bulgarian lover named Idina, where-"

"Can we help you?" The skinny inquired, interrupting the top hat guy.

"Um…I was just looking for a key," Rick said, heading slowly for the door, the ghosts' eyes following him.

"Oh, you mean this thing?" Shorty asked, reaching into his beard. Rick stopped and stared with a raised eyebrow at the little guy.

A few seconds later, he produced out of his beard a key with an emerald green jewel stuck in one end. It was solid, but the see-through spook was able to hold it.

"Wow, that's exquisite!" Skinny said, looking over at Shorty as if they were the same room together and not in different mirrors.

"You want a look see?" Shorty asked, and tossed the key from his mirror to Skinny on his side of the glass.

"H-hey, I kinda need…" Rick started, but faltered when he watched the key get passed between the three ghosts, like a game of keep away.

"C'mon then," Top Hat taunted, "Get it!"

Rick threw up his hands in frustration and turned away from the ghosts, annoyed. They looked at him and stopped throwing the key around.

"Look boys, we've upset him!" Skinny said, almost sounding sympathetic.

"Aww…maybe we should give it to 'em," Shorty suggested.

"Maybe, because I'm trying to free you all from this mansion and I need that key!" Rick yelled, clenching his fists.

The ghosts looked at each other again.

"Oh, all right. Here you go. But be careful with that! It's a family heirloom!" Top Hat said, tossing the key out of the mirror and hitting Rick in the back with it.

Rick turned and picked up the key, shaking his head at the ghosts in the mirrors.

"It's not even yours."

"True, true, but it's still SOMEONE'S family heirloom," Top Hat said with a shrug. They turned in unison away from Rick to leave.

"Hey, wait!" He called. They each turned back to look at him.

"Do you guys know where the last key might be?"

They shared glances.

"Sure, kid," Skinny said, "C'mere."

Rick cautiously approached the middle mirror where the skinny ghost smiled at him.

"Thank you for choosing Gracey Manor Transportation…we're sure glad you dropped in!"

On those words, the floor underneath Rick suddenly slid back, making him fall into the ground. As his yell of surprise faded into the distance, the three ghosts grinned, and one by one disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

* * *

Rick was in an underground tunnel, sliding to who knows where. He was unable to grab on to anything, because of the tunnel's smooth surface. Sliding through the dark, he shut his eyes and waited for it to be over. 

And a few seconds later, with a loud _THUD_, it was.

He landed on something soft. When he opened his eyes, he saw carpet. And walls.

Rick was back in the Mansion.

Standing up, he looked around. Rick was in the portrait gallery, where this whole thing had started. One of the paintings he'd seen earlier had a secret passage behind it, and was swung open now, allowing him to see the dark tunnel he'd just come out of. Rick moved to the painting and shut it carefully.

When it shut, he could see down the rest of the hall.

And there was someone else with him.


	10. Chapter 9: Tyler's Farewell

It was a boy.

He looked about sixteen or so, standing a mere ten feet or so, looking at another painting in the hallway.

And he was a translucent blue.

Rick recognized this boy…was it…

" Tyler?"

The boy turned to him, and his eyes widened.

"Oh my god. You're…you're not dead, are you?"

"No."

"How do you know my name?"

"I'm a detective…working on…" Rick hesitated. He really didn't know how to say it.

"What?" Tyler asked, looking at him with see-through eyes.

"…your murder case."

"…oh."

"I'm sorry," Rick said, looking away.

"It's not your fault," Tyler said, turning back to the painting. He slowly reached up to the painting he was in front of – the ship. Tyler touched the painting, and then put his hand through it. Rick watched as the artwork slowly transformed into the cursed, dark painting.

"I never should've come in here. I shouldn't have listened to Nick," Tyler said with a sigh, taking his hand away. The painting returned to normal.

"Do you want to know how I died?"

"What?" Rick asked, snapping his gaze away from the painting.

"You came to investigate my murder. I'm going to tell you what happened. Before it's too late."

Tyler turned to look out the dark windows, the moonlight shining in the windows and through the ghost boy.

"When the panel slid shut, the room started to stretch. This mysterious voice started talking, and I couldn't figure out where it was coming from. He said something like…'This room has no windows and no doors, so try to find a way out. Of course, there's always my way.'

"The ceiling suddenly vanished, and I saw these rafters, and a hanging corpse. He was looking right at me, and I freaked out. The next thing I know, lightning starts flashing, he ripped off a huge chunk of rafter, and threw it at me. And minutes later, I'm floating over my body, and then I got pulled into this room.

"It was the most excruciating pain I've ever felt. And it's going to haunt me forever. Look."

Tyler slowly unbuttoned the shirt he was wearing, and showed Rick his chest. There was a hole through it, just like on his body.

"Oh my god."

Tyler shrugged, and buttoned his shirt. He then looked at Rick with pure sadness in his eyes.

"I need you to do something for me. When you go back…please tell my family that I never meant for this to happen. I'm sorry. And…tell Mariah…

"Who's that?"

"Mariah's my girlfriend. Tell her that I'm okay. And tell her to move on, if she hasn't."

"I will. But… Tyler…soon you'll be-"

"I know. It's too late. Please, go. I don't want to hurt you. And take this – I found it behind one of these paintings."

Tyler pulled a ghostly key out of his jeans pocket. As he tossed it to Rick, the key shimmered, and became solid. It had a beautiful ruby inset in it, and was a dark red color.

"Thank you," Rick breathed, staring at the key. All of a sudden, Tyler screamed. Rick looked at the boy – he had fallen to the ground, and looked as if he was in sheer agony.

"Go! It's happening! I don't…want to…-" But he couldn't get the words out. The curse of the mansion was finally affecting him.

His eyes became black, and the carpet suddenly ripped apart and the floorboards vanished. Fire shot out of the floor, surrounding Tyler. As it ensnared the screaming kid, Rick got a safe distance away and watched, tears forming in his eyes. The fire slowly pulled Tyler into the ground, writhing and screeching. The fire extinguished, and the floor returned to normal.

Tyler had been taken by the mansion.

* * *

Rick ran through the halls of the mansion, trying to find Leota's room. He had to rescue the souls of the mansion – not just for Tyler, but for every soul trapped there and experiencing the agonizing pain of the curse.

But within the maze of the house, he came to a room with a large white door, with the word "Study" emblazoned above it.

It was William's room. But he didn't have all of the keys yet!

Frustrated, Rick looked at the door.

There was a purple keyhole…a silver keyhole…a red keyhole…a green keyhole…

And then, something Rick didn't expect.

Next to the keyholes was a small blue indent on the line of locks. It had a very distinct shape, and reminded Rick of something.

Then, he suddenly knew.

The ring he had found in the attic. It was a key.

Breathing with excitement, he slowly put each key in its appropriate place. Then, one by one, he turned them. Turning the purple key, the white door suddenly changed color to a deep purple, matching the stone. He turned the silver one, the door became silver. Upon turning the red, the door was flooded with red color. And when he turned the key, the red slowly transformed into green.

He then turned the blue ring all the way around in its lock. Doing this caused the door to suddenly rattle, and then it creaked open.

There was…another door. It was black, and looked like it had a little piano sticking out of it.

"Oh, for the love of-…" Rick started, but then looked at the door more closely.

Could it be?

"A musical lock…" Rick said, and knew exactly what the combination of notes was.

_GG AA _ _E EE__ D# D# B. _

Upon entering this, the second door suddenly slid into the wall, revealing the study. It was warmly lit, and there was a crackling fire going in the room's fireplace. The room wasn't dusty at all, unlike the rest of the house, and looked well lived in. There was a desk, and behind it a large bookshelf all along the wall. Stepping further into the room, Rick examined the desk a little more – there were curios, paperwork dated from the 1800's, and other normal office stuff. It surprised Rick – he certainly didn't think he'd find a typical study in here.

Suddenly, something tapped him on the shoulder.

Rick swiveled around, and found him face to face with a corpse.

William.

The dead body was standing inches away from him, wearing a tattered suit and with his skin almost completely peeled off of him. All that was left of his head was a skull, save a few patches of yellowed skin near the top.

"Welcome, foolish mortal," William said in a deep throaty voice.


	11. Chapter 10: Encounter With The Master

Rick backed up slowly, and had to stop when he hit the desk. William simply looked at him.

"So you're the one that everyone's buzzing about. Marvelous to have finally met you."

He extended a bony hand, but Rick didn't shake it back. After a moment, the skeleton withdrew his hand and stared at Rick. He couldn't guess what William was thinking, on account of skeletons being expressionless.

At last, William spoke.

"You know…with that boy, we now have nine hundred and ninety-nine ghosts here…but there's room for a thousand. Interested?"

Rick glared at him. "You bastard. I know what you did to Meadow, to Leota, to everyone in this house! You're sick! And just because you wanted more money. I can't believe you could live with yourself after you did that!"

"IDIOT!" William bellowed, "Can you not see? I CAN'T! "Look at me! I'm a shadow of my former self, I'm this hideous creature, trapped in this godforsaken house for all eternity with demented souls! Dante was wrong, boy…THIS is hell!"

"If it weren't for your selfish needs, you wouldn't still be here! You have no one to blame for yourself!"

William opened his jaw as if to argue, but then stopped.

"You're right."

"What?" Rick asked, still glaring. He didn't think it'd be that easy.

"I'm the idiot. I cursed everything I had, everything I loved. I loved my wife, my darling Alexandria…I only wanted what was best for her!"

"Wait – Alexandria?"

"She was my wife before Meadow, before I turned into a bitter, hateful miser. Alexandria died of consumption when she was pregnant with our child, bless her soul. Those final months were the hardest for her…but she has moved on…unlike all of these others and myself. Sometimes I wish I was the one who had died instead of her…In her honor I had her portrait added to the gallery where I usually hang. She loved to walk the tightrope…but of course…the mansion added that horrendous alligator after the curse came into effect. Every day I would hang there, and look at her picture from above. Her eyes seemed to call out to me, to ask me to join her in the afterlife…but I couldn't…"

"After her death, I had to move on. I needed to rebuild. When I lost Alexandria, I was deeply depressed. Left all my business deals, which crashed into the ground. Soon, I was practically bankrupt. I didn't want to lose the mansion…this beautiful, majestic mansion…so I planned to marry Meadow, whose father had left her a hefty sum of money when he died. Meadow was a sweet, innocent girl…I didn't want to kill her…but this dark, greedy force inside of me loved money more than her. I locked her in the trunk on our wedding day. But I couldn't let anyone know that."

"When the townspeople started to get suspicious of me, I had to deny it, but they insisted on killing me then and there. That's when I cast the spell. It was horrible to watch. It made me sick…blood pouring down, killing everyone, while I stood there on the porch becoming covered with the blood, but not feeling the effects of the spell."

"When I learned that my spell…my curse…had killed the people inside the house as well, I was horrified. I had never meant for that to happen! Why did it do that? Why didn't Leota tell me?"

William let out a sigh of frustration, and then continued his story. The flames in the fireplace seemed to be jumping higher, listening to his every word.

"Damn it…it wasn't Leota's fault…it was mine…and I've condemned her to a life of suffering too, trying to bring her back. Stupid of me. When I realized that I had lost everything…my family, my money, my company…I had to do something. The house would go next…and I wanted to make sure no one got it."

"When I killed myself, I had no idea that it would backfire my curse. But," he said, chuckling sadly, "it made sure nobody got my house."

"Leota and I are the only sane ones here. Everyone else is either brainless, reliving their death, or turned evil. And it's all my fault."

The skeleton bowed his head, and Rick felt a little sorry for the pitiful creature.

"But…now that you know…I can't let you leave."

"What?" Rick asked, taken aback.

"William Gracey will be remembered as a respectable member of society. Not some cold blooded killer. And I need to make sure that it stays that way."

Suddenly, he reached out an arm and grabbed Rick by the neck, lifting him up. The fireplace suddenly erupted in a bursts of flames, and the hearth opened up higher. It looked like a portal to Hell. Rick started gasping for air, and tried to kick William, but the skeleton, unfazed, calmly walked over to the fireplace and held Rick over it.

"Life is such a corruptible state, isn't it, Mr. Summers?" William asked, "Don't worry…you could luck out and lose your mind instead of reliving your death. I'm sure it's not so bad…"

"Yeah?" Rick choked out, "Well you better hope you don't start reliving yours." With effort, Rick suddenly brought his legs up and kicked William in the chest. There was a snap, and one of William's ribs broke off, causing him to jerk back and loosen his grip. Rick dropped out of the skeleton's grasp onto the floor, and with one swift motion, kicked Gracey in the legs.

William buckled forward, and fell face first into the fire.

But Rick's earlier thought about the portal to Hell was now true – the house had transformed again, this time turning the fireplace into a way to enter the depths of the Underworld. And Rick was certainly glad it wasn't him spiraling down into the endless abyss.

Rick watched with disgust as William's screaming corpse eventually disappeared out of sight. Then the fireplace immediately shrank back to its normal size, and then the fire slowly went out.

Breathing with relief in the quiet study, Rick slumped to the floor.

It was over. Finally over.

But then Rick heard a noise from outside. Someone was knocking on the door.


	12. Chapter 11: Dispelled

Groaning, Rick stood up slowly and opened the door. And he found the person that he least expected.

It was Leota.

But not Leota in the crystal ball. A slender, corporeal Leota with long black hair, wearing a black dress and large hoop earrings. As soon as she saw Rick, she threw her arms around him in a big hug.

"Leota?-" Rick started, but got the wind knocked out of him by the hug.

"You did it! You've vanquished William!" Leota said happily, "Now we can finally be free of this prison!"

"What are you talking about? What's going on!"

"C'mon!" Leota said, grabbing his hand. He glanced back at the door, and grabbed the keys from the lock before Leota pulled him along. She led him through the house, and to a large staircase with a giant glass window at the top.

"Look!" She said excitedly, pointing skyward. Rick looked up.

Floating through the air were the ghosts. Hundreds of them, each soaring around, circling with glee, and flying through the window and into the sky, finally able to move on.

Rick saw the three ghosts from the crypt, and they winked and waved as they floated through the giant window.

The dog that attacked him earlier, now a handsome, fur-covered pit bull, barked happily at him.

"You're forgiven," Rick said to it with a smile as it floated around and then flew away.

The singing quintet, all wearing pinstripe suits and matching hats, floated out together, still singing. They tipped their hats to Rick as they vanished.

Another ghost that stood out was a beautiful young girl in a sparkling pink dress…now blood free. Smiling at him, she mouthed 'thank you' before floating away. Hundreds more ghosts passed, including Tyler, and soon, they were gone.

"By sending William to the afterlife, you've broken the curse. I have been restored," She said, gesturing to her body, "and can move on with everyone else. But there's one ghost that would like to thank you personally."

Leota nodded to the staircase, and Rick looked in its direction. Slowly descending the staircase was a woman in a beautiful wedding dress with a flowing veil…Meadow.

"Thank you," she said in a sweet and gentle voice, "I can finally go and see my family…and the people who truly love me."

"Oh! Wait!" Rick said, remembering something, "Before you go…" He shuffled around in his pockets, and eventually produced the beautiful ring that he'd found earlier in the trunk. "I think this is yours."

"You keep it," Meadow said, giving him a smile, "Give it to your own special someone some day."

Rick nodded with thanks, and Meadow closed her eyes and turned her head upward. Spreading her arms wide, she slowly vanished in a cloud of glittering gold sparkles.

"I should go too. Once again – thank you," Leota said, and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Blushing, he watched as she slowly ascended the stairs.

And for the first time in over a century, sunlight streamed through the windows of the mansion. Leota vanished just as the first rays of daylight pierced the giant window.

Rick easily found his way back to the portrait gallery now that the mansion wasn't twisted and warped. As soon as he touched the secret panel, it slid open, much to the surprise of the people on the other side.

* * *

In a hospital not far from the house, Maria the psychic suddenly awoke from her mysterious coma. Sitting up and looking out the window of her hospital room, she could see the Mansion, a speck in the distance, and smiled.

"Well done," she whispered, before resting her head on the pillow again.

* * *

It turned out, according to the police, Rick had been in the mansion for…say it with me now…thirteen hours. They found that as soon as he returned, they could easily open any window and door in the house. And once everyone had left, the mysterious stretching room returned to normal, never to elongate again.

Rick stood outside the house in the daylight, admiring it in its former glory. As he was about to leave, something caught his eye on the front steps.

A little girl, wearing a white dress, with black hair was watching him. Rick stared at her curiously, but the girl returned a mischievous smile.

Her words floated over the ground and Rick was the only one who could seem to hear them, while the others were busy getting in vehicles and leaving.

Rick never forgot the little girl's words, spoken in a soft little voice with a playful grin on her face.

"_Hurry ba-aack…hurry ba-aack…be sure to bring your death certificate…if you decide to join us…make final arrangements now. We've been dying to have you…"_

With that, the girl faded away to the afterlife with the others. With a smile, Rick got in his car, knowing every soul was finally at piece. As he drove away, he looked at the beautiful house in his rearview mirror.

"I love this job."


End file.
